HATE Series - HATE loneliness

HATE Series - HATE loneliness


A twinkling star is a beauty, born as imaginary. Lines that connect them through ages of light are also, imaginary. The stories that people have believed. The glory, the despair, and the greatness of it all… 




Can only be, 




Imaginary. 







A dot appeared on my paper. Was it my tear? The raindrop? Or my hand drawing in my subconscious? 

Inks that have stained my hands. Or was it my blood? Or maybe, someone else's? 







Anyway—







The grass is, awfully cold today… 

And it smells, like rain… 


Maybe, the moon, oh my lonely,         only         friend—


Her tears… 


Knows something about it. 


Right? 

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